Bad Week
by Xenolord
Summary: Squall wakes up one fine Monday morning to find that Quistis, his girlfriend of three years has left him. It can only get worse as the Week Progresses.


Disclaimer: Square Enix owns Final Fantasy.

Squall's Bad Week

He'd done it. Finally, she was out of his hair. He'd never have to hear that damned annoying voice of hers again. Silence once more. You see, Squall had been having a very, very bad week. The kind of week you know is gonna be bad when you wake up at the beginning to find your girlfriend left you for your best friend, and someone who likes you who you loath, decides to move in.

-Monday-

"I'm sorry, Squall. I need to find someone new... I think we both do." Quistis had said on the answering machine when Squall awoke. He played it three or four times before he finally understood what Quistis, his girlfriend of three years, was saying. On the fifth play through, he finally realized this was a message of breakup. It was all so sudden... She was so happy the night before, not a care in the world... what could have made her change her mind... and so quickly.

Discarding Quistis' message as convenience, or that she'd be back in a few days, Squall went out to see Zell. He had planed on taking Quistis to a movie that day, but he decided maybe Zell'd like to go. Gore-fests were his cup of tea, so he'd enjoy it.

"Sorry, mate. Can't go. I'm seeing someone soon. But, I'm free tomorrow if you wanna hold off." Zell had said when Squall confronted him. He had the look of someone who knew he was going to win the lottery. Squall just shrugged it off and walked away. He spent the day doing this and that for Selphie and the Garden Committee.

-Tuesday-

Squall woke up early that morning to get to Zell before he went to work for the Garden Committee. It was one of those decisions that looked better on paper then the did in execution. He had arrived at Zell's house grinning slightly. But, when he knocked, the smile vanished quickly. Answering the door was none other the Quistis Trepe. His ex-girlfriend. He stood stunned.

"S-Squall!" She spoke, equally stunned. She was half naked, dressed only in a bed sheet. Squall didn't say anything. He simply settled to clench both hands into tight fists. He growled something under his breath and stormed off swearing up a storm. He then promptly spent the rest of the day trashing his house, throwing things around and destroying whatever he decided he could live without.

Selphie had stopped by for a visit, but after seeing the door hanging on by one of the three hinges it had, she decided it was better to spend the day fishing...

-Wednesday-

Zell had come around the next day, looking like a man with something to explain.

"Oh, no, Zell. I think I got exactly what you meant. Apparently, I wasn't good enough for her, but _you_? You of all people?! Don't get me wrong, Zell, you're a likable guy, but not datable, likable. Irvine, Irvine I could see, but _you_?" Squall rampaged indiscriminately. Zell, understanding full well his anger, let him go.

"Look, man, I don't know what to say..."

"I don't think you have to say anything, Zell. I don't think you have to say anything..." He stormed out into the morning sun to the local bar.

Along the way, he met up with Rinoa.

"Hey, Squall." Rinoa spoke, smiling. Her cheerful blue clothing was only succeeding in making Squall more angry then ever. If there was one person he didn't want to speak to at the moment, it was Rinoa.

"Rinoa... what do you want?" He droned right to the point, trying to get rid of her.

"Selphie told me what happened between you and Quistis..." She began.

"What kinda business is it of Selphie's what happens between us? And what is she doin' telling you?" Squall barked, slumping down in a seat. Rinoa took the seat next to him.

"Well... none. But when you didn't come to the committee, she called the only contact number she had for you..."

"Quistis..." he muttered. The name only made his anger levels rise.

"She said the two of you broke up..." She looked down. "But... now that you're single..."

"Rinoa, listen. For the last time. I like you. I do. But I don't like you _that much_. You're a nice girl, it's just... you're not my type." He began, taking a huge drink for the glass the bartender gave him.

"I can dye my hair blond, if that's it..." Rinoa started.

"_No!_ Rinoa, that's not it... That's not what I mean. You're hair is fine. You're fine, it's just I... I don't know you as well as I know..." He stopped. "Well... suffice to say, I don't know you as well as I _thought_ I knew Quistis..." Rinoa sat next to him.

"One night, and I'll tell you all you want to know..." She whispered in his ear.

"_RINOA!_" Squall shouted pulling away. "For the love of GOD leave me alone! Can't I just get piss-drunk and crash in peace?" He yelled, throwing a hand up. A tear forming in her eye, she walked out and away from him.

-Thursday-

Get piss-drunk and crash is exactly what he did. When he had had enough booze to make even his computer look sexy, he walked, rather unsteadily, might I add, back to his house, where he proceeded to crash on his bed and sleep until noon the next day. He was awoken by the insessent ringing of his doorbell. Fighting the hangover and gravity's cruel hold, he stumbled to the door and opened it.

"Huh?" He asked groggily. His vision was too blurred to make out faces, but the blue outfit gave her away. "'Noa..." He slurred. "Whayou doin' 'ere?" He continued.

"I just wanted to see how you were doing. You left rather early last night. How are you?" She asked.

"Afeel like a got a friggin' horse kickin' ma head in..." He muttered, rubbing his head.

"I know a few good remedies for hangovers, ya know..." She toyed with him, starting to pull her shirt off.

"I'm drunk, 'Noa... but nodrunk enough to say no to ya... It's like a told ya lasnight. Yer not ma type... sorry..." He pulled her shirt down again. She huffed.

"What's with you? Am I not good enough for you? Is that it? Are my breasts too small? Is that it? Is Quistis _bigger_ then me? Or maybe you prefer _green_ eyes? Is that it?" No answer. "Answer me damnit! Why am I not your type!?" Squall's slurring stopped. Almost as if his hangover was gone, he became very audible.

"Rinoa... I told you. I don't know you well enough to date you. I like you. I do, really, but not that much. You're just not my type, Rinoa. _That's. All._" He emphasized. Rinoa pouted and stormed away. Slightly stunned, but more hammered then anything, Squall went back to lie down again. He didn't get up for the rest of the day.

-Friday-

His hangover was still there on Friday morning, but dying. He must have had one hell of a night. He awoke and walked to the Selphie's garage to help with the Garden Committee.

"Heya, Squall. What happened yesterday? You didn't come in, and when you didn't answer your phone, we thought you were dead! Then Rinoa told us you were too drunk to even stand up."

"That about covers it..." Squall answered, picking up a hammer, starting on one of the supports. Selphie snuck up behind him and watched him.

"Squall..." She began. He muttered an answer. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Yea... sure why not." He answered hastily, trying to finish.

"Am _I_ you type?" She asked. He knew exactly what she meant.

"For the love of _GOD_! What the HELL has Rinoa been telling you?!"

"That you're apparently not interested in her. And she's not your type." Selphie responded. "What is your type?" Squall swore.

"My 'type', Selphie, is a kind person. A caring individual. _Someone who doesn't think my name is a divine symbol! Someone who doesn't worship the ground I walk on! Someone _NOT _like Rinoa_!" He finished. Selphie mouthed 'oh' and went about her business. The Garden Committee is where Squall spent the rest of that Friday.

-Saturday-

Friday night and the ensuing Saturday morning were happily Rinoa-Free. It wasn't until her returned home from shopping that his day turned sour. When he went into his house, he found Rinoa lying on his bed in a night gown. She was awake, looking at him.

"_FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, RINOA! WHAT THE HELL DO I HAVE TO DO TO GET RID OF YOU?!?_" He shouted, dropping his bags on the floor. Rinoa just stood and walked over to him.

"One night. That's all. If you sleep with me for one night, I'll leave you alone..." She trailed off. "If, of course... you can bring yourself to say no." She drew a circle on his cheek. Something within Squall's subconscious snapped. Some thin line he had been walking for a long time finally broke.

"_I'VE HAD IT WITH YOU, RINOA! HAD IT! DOES THAT GET THROUGH TO YOU?! H-A-D I-T! YOU MAKE IT YOUR GOAL IN LIFE TO PISS ME OFF! WELL GUESS WHAT, BITCH? IT WORKED!_" In a fit of rage, he grabbed Rinoa by the back of her head, threw her to the ground before him, straddled over her, wrapping both hands around her neck, he squeezed. He strangled her until she finally stopped moving. Silence.

-Saturday Night-

Selphie had stopped by that night. She had not seen either Squall or Rinoa all day and decided to investigate. She went to knock, but found the door open. Calling out for both of them, she entered.

Searching all of the house came up nothing. She finally came to his bedroom to find the lifeless corpse of Rinoa lying on the floor. She gasped and ran to her.

"Rinoa?! Oh my god!? Rinoa? Are... are you okay?!" She shouted, trying to get some response.

"She's dead, Selphie..." Squall's voice called sullenly from the closet.

"How... do you know... she could be unconscious..." Selphie stammered, trying to shake a creepy feeling she had.

"Oh, no. Trust me. She's dead. I should know. I killed her." Squall continued.

"_WHAT?!_" Selphie shouted looking between Rinoa's body and where Squall's voice came from. Her face read shocked horror. "Why?"

"She wouldn't leave me the hell alone, Selphie! I tried being nice! I tried being stern! Nothing worked! She left me no choice!"

"But to kill her, Squall! Couldn't you have at least... I don't know... thrown her out? Or humored her?"

"Oh. I see." Squall's voice was normal again. "You're on _her_ side, aren't you? You're _siding_ with Rinoa, aren't you?"

"No, I..." Selphie started.

"_DON'T LIE TO ME!_" Squall shouted. He jumped from the closet and grabbed Selphie around the neck, the force of his body knocking her to the ground. She grabbed at his collar, hair, arm, anything to get him off.

Selphie died, her face devoid of her usual happy smile.

With two already dead, he had another feeling he had to take care of. One more loose end to be tied. He walked through the night towards Zell's house. He would let Zell live, he was too close a friend to kill. But that lecherous whore Quistis had to die. He found their bedroom, and sure enough, there the two of them were. Slipping in through an open window, he walked silently to the kitchen, grabbed a long, sharp, serrated bread knife from the drawer. He walked back to the bedroom and watched her sleep for a time. After being satisfied, he spoke.

"Quistis." He spoke in a sotto voice. Her eyes popped open.

"Squall?" She answered. "Is that you?"

"Yes. It's me."

"Where are you?" She continued sitting up, her eyes slowly adjusting to the low-light.

"Bathroom." He answered. She followed his voice to the bathroom. Once she entered, he locked the door behind her and turned the bathroom light on. In the short few seconds she was blinded by the sudden flood of light, he struck. The knife found thirty homes. One across her throat, fifteen or so in her chest, and the rest in her groin. Her screams didn't even put a dent in Zell's deep sleep. The stabbing motion Squall was making with the knife sent drops of blood spraying in most directions, splattering the mirror, shower curtain and sinks. He saved the killing blow, slitting her throat, for the last.

It took Quistis five and a half minutes to finally die. Squall dropped her body with a dull thud to the ground, in a pool of her own blood. Covered in blood, Squall replaced the knife, and went out the way he came in.

-Sunday-

Zell awoke the next morning feeling like a million gil. He got out of bed and went to the kitchen to get a glass of water. After downing the water, he walks back to the bedroom.

"Hey, Quistis. Time to get up." He mutters. No response. "Come on, get up." His hand came down on her side of the bed. Empty. He scanned the room. "Quistis?" His eyes fell on the closed bathroom door. A small sliver of light came through. Thinking she was getting dressed, he opened the door. "Quis... Oh my god!" He shouted. The scene that assailed his sense was gratuitous in every meaning of the word. He had to hold his gag reflex in check, or he would have lost it. Before him laid the mutilated corpse of his girlfriend. Blood stained her once blond hair to a diluted crimson. He bolted from the room and dialed the police.

-Later-

Squall, still drenched head to toe in blood stepped inside the small confessional booth. He knelt down on the padded kneeler and crossed himself. The door slid open.

"Forgive me, Father, for it has been six days since my last confession..." He muttered. The priest nodded.

"Tell my your sins, my child." The priest spoke, his voice soft and caring.

"Well... Many times I have taken the Lord's name in vein... I've had several impure thoughts..." He paused... "And I've taken three lives..." The priest was taken aback by this.

"Excuse me?"

"I said I have killed three people."

"I see..." The priest's voice was starting to waver.

"Well... I have taken three, I'll take another soon..."

"Who are these people you have sent to the Lord?"

"My friends Selphie Tilmat... Quistis Trepe... and Rinoa."

"And why, my son, would you take the lives of your friends?" The priest answered, his caring voice still present, but disrupted by another voice.

"Well, Father. It's a complicated story..." Squall told the Father the whole story.

"Well... if this is the case, then who is the forth you will take?" Squall took his time in answering.

"Myself." He answered swiftly.

"My son, suicide is frowned upon in the Lord's eyes..."

"So is murder." Squall rebutted. "But I can be absolved of murder. I confess my suicide early. I hope, maybe for some understanding in the after life... if there is one.

"Is there some reason you would take your own life, my son?"

"I have murdered my three friends in a fit of blind rage. Maybe I can atone for it if I take my own when I have full control of myself..."

"There is but another way..."

"I loved Quistis. Hell... I've done things I could only do if I loved her... We've slept together... by all accounts, we were married... but... but..." Squall stopped to recompose himself. "I lost my temper with her."

"Go on."

"I loved Selphie. She was as close as a friend as anyone would wish for. Sure, she was... annoying at times, but you got used to her. She always had a smile that could make ice melt, it was so warm. When Quistis left me... I had thought about proposing to Selphie... but... I couldn't."

"I see..."

"And Rinoa... Well, without saying to much... I... Loved Rinoa. She was damned annoying, always pissing me off, but she was special in her own way. She always made me feel... good to be alive. I had no cause to harm her..."

"Continue."

"I look back now, Father, and I see so many different ways I could have handled the situation. So many different outcomes. But... as they say, hindsight is twenty twenty. I suppose I feel the most guilty for robbing my best friend of Quistis... When she left me, she began seeing him."

"Did you end his life, too?"

"No. Zell and I go too far back. Besides, he's done nothing to me." Squall continued. "I suppose, what I need is some advice. What should I do now?"

"Well, my son. There is nothing to be done. You have already confessed to me the sins of your hand. They are grave sins, but the Lord's hand is caring, and you have been forgiven of them. However, the Lord urges you not to end your own life. It is not the answer you seek."

"Thank you, Father." Squall muttered, stepping out. The priest's door opened behind him.

"Oh, my son." The voice was familiar now. Squall turned around, coming face to face with Irvine's rifle. "I hope you burn in hell, you son of a bitch!" Irvine shouted, firing both barrels. The sniper threw off the Priest garb and stepped over Squall's body. He fired twice more, just to make sure he was dead. Casually, Irvine stepped into the booth Squall exited.

"Forgive me, Father. I have gone all my twenty three years without a confession, and I feel it is time..."


End file.
